


A Personal Commission

by NeurotropicAgentX



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Bounty Hunting, Extra Treat, M/M, Rare Pair, Shared History, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeurotropicAgentX/pseuds/NeurotropicAgentX
Summary: There was a reason that Vader was willing to cut him good deals and it wasn’t just their shared history, which contained just as many reasons for Vader to never, ever hire him. Boba was the best bounty hunter operating outside of the Core Worlds and anyone who mattered knew it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [days4daisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/gifts).



> A treat for the treater. 
> 
> Many thanks to my editor.

There were a few communication channels that maintained up-to-date information on the Empire’s latest bounties. These were higher quality than the usual dross put out by the big organised crime gangs and petty dictators in the Outer Rim. It meant that Empire bounties usually paid less, but they were safer. Not that the Empire would ever officially acknowledge the existence of the bounties they put out, but it was easier to get into spaces they controlled if you knew the right things to say.

Boba had been doing this for quite some time and he he’d become very good at knowing the right things to say. Occasionally he even got personal commissions from the Empire. Though that might have had less to do with his reputation and more to do with one Imperial in particular. 

Boba was perusing the Empire’s comm channel on a whim, after having handed over his last assignment to one of the Outer Rim warlords. The pay hadn’t been great, but it was enough to last the next few months. The comm channel was filled with the usual small-time bounties that Boba avoided, however there was one contract that offered a hefty 50,000 credits on completion and the last known sighting of the target was deep in the Outer Rim Territories. 

Some of Boba’s most useful contacts lived that far out, making the assignment easy money. If he could get to the target first. The contract had been out for several weeks already and Boba didn’t feel like playing catch-up with the rest of the bounty hunters, even if none of the big names operated nearly as efficiently as him once they were out of the Core and Mid Rim Territories. 

He considered his options for a long moment before flicking over to one privileged Imperial channel. There was barely any lag, even at this distance, but he knew from experience that it would take a long time before the person on the other end deigned to answer. 

It was hours before Boba received an answer. He was tinkering with his ship’s drive system when the call came, but he didn’t delay too long cleaning up considering that he was about to negotiate a favour. He put his helmet on before he activated his comm screen though, because there were forms to follow. Vader’s image appeared on screen as soon as Boba accepted the comm signal.

‘Boba Fett,’ Vader greeted. 

‘Darth Vader,’ Boba replied. ‘This is about the bounty on that kaleesh smuggler.’ Vader didn’t respond. He tended not speak unless absolutely necessary. ‘I assume you’re getting kind of frustrated by now. It’s been up for weeks, and still no response.’

‘There have been responses. Fifty thousand credits draws a lot of interest,’ Vader said.

‘Yes, but no results. Yet.’ Vader said nothing, the silence making it obvious enough that Boba had guessed right.

‘What are you offering?’ Vader finally asked.

Boba smiled under his helmet, the Empire must be getting pretty frustrated if Vader was willing to hand over control of the negation like this. ‘The sort of superior service that I delivered at Ilum. Pull the bounty from the public channels and give me two weeks. If I bring in the kaleesh by then, I get paid eighty thousand.’

Vader was silent for a long moment. ‘Seventy thousand if you bring in the kaleesh in two weeks. The bounty goes back on the public channels after two weeks and you get paid thirty thousand if you deliver any time after that deadline.’

Boba blinked. The Empire must really want the target. He’d been expecting to be negotiated down to sixty at the most. ‘Deal.’ 

‘Very well.’ Vader then gave him a docking code and instructions to bring the target to Geonosis, in the Outer Rim. Boba knew what was being built in the orbit of that planet. There wasn’t a lot happening in the Outer Rim that he wasn’t at least partially aware of.

‘Two weeks, then. I’ll bring the target,’ Boba confirmed.

‘Good. Make sure this doesn’t turn into another Maryx Minor incident,’ Vader said before signing off.

Boba barked a laugh at the empty screen. Vader could still surprise him, even after all this time.

///

Tracking down the kaleesh was the hardest part of the operation. Without his carefully cultivated informants, Boba wouldn’t have stood a chance. Actually bringing in the target was the easiest part. Whatever their crime against the Empire, it wasn’t one involving close-combat skills, or even ones that needed a weapon. Though the kaleesh had lost a hand at some point, so maybe they’d got their fill of fighting.

Boba took his prisoner to Geonosis into what technically counted as Empire space. He dropped the _Slave I_ into realspace far enough away from the planet so as not to scare the Imperial guard fleet. It was uncomfortable having to answer to Imperials and use docking codes here in the Outer Rim, but Vader’s code got him through the bureaucratic asteroid field with minimal fuss. 

Boba didn’t like talking to stormtroopers over his comm and he liked seeing them in person even less. He knew that these days few of the living ones wore his face, but there was always that moment of hesitation and doubt where he wondered exactly how many of them were… like him.

After about half a dozen queries and hails from the guard fleet, Boba finally found himself within scanning distance of the Empire’s space station. The thing was kriffing huge, even while incomplete. Its dimensions were incredible for an artificial construct and Boba doubted its ability to move at hyperspace speeds. The thing was just too big.

It only took one more reiteration of the docking codes before he was given permission to land. Of course the thing hit his ship with a tractor beam to facilitate the landing. Boba growled and slowly took his hands off his ship’s controls. He’d only be tempted to try and manoeuver manually and fighting against a tractor beam was just asking for engine trouble. Still, it grated against his instincts to let someone else control his landing and the station’s ground control ignored his requests to disengage their kriffing beam.

Boba winced as his ship hit the floor of the hanger bay. The touchdown was pretty smooth, but it was still rougher than he’d have managed on his own. He patted the ship’s controls on his way out of the cockpit and swore he’d shoot anyone in ground control who offered to guide him out of the hanger.

The kaleesh didn’t struggle when Boba dragged them out of the brig. It might have had something to do with the broken arm and the large gash across their torso. Also it was just plain stupid to fight with a pair of stun cuffs on, and the target had already made all their pointless offers of bigger payment in exchange for their freedom. As if anything they could offer was worth his reputation as a competent bounty hunter who got the job done. There was a reason that Vader was willing to cut him good deals and it wasn’t just their shared history, which contained just as many reasons for Vader to never, ever hire him. Boba was the best hunter operating outside of the Core Worlds and anyone who mattered knew it.

When they left the _Slave I_ , a whole squadron was waiting in the landing bay and they were headed by Vader himself. Boba glanced at the kaleesh. Surely they couldn’t merit this kind of reception. It didn’t matter, he’d held up his end of the contract and if the Empire wanted this kind of security detail that was their business.

Boba handed off the target to the stormtroopers, while trying to avoid looking at all of them as much as possible. He turned to Vader. ‘A visit by Lord Vader himself, I’m flattered.’

‘You should be, Fett,’ Vader said, in that way of his, which could easily be sarcasm or sincerity. The helmet and voice modulator made it difficult to tell. ‘Come with me and we’ll discuss your payment.’

Boba snorted just softly enough that no one would be able to hear it through his helmet. ‘Lead the way.’

Vader swept away from the retinue of stormtroopers without even giving any orders. From the corner of his eye, Boba watched them march off like good little droid-soldiers. He shivered, and hoped Vader didn’t notice. 

The two of them walked through nearly empty corridors. From this part of the construct it was hard to remember it wasn’t finished. They came to a door, which Vader waved open. There was either some sort of sensor or Vader had just used his Force-powers to do it. Boba didn’t much care for the reminder of the Jedi, even if they were all dead and Vader was… something else.

Boba followed Vader inside and looked around the room curiously. If these were Vader’s private quarters they were sparse. There was a desk against one wall and a table with two chairs in the centre of the room. There was a door on the other side of the room, which might have led to a bedroom or a ’fresher, or might just be another exit. 

Vader sat at the table. Boba hesitated behind the other chair, but sat. He wasn’t going to be intimidated, certainly not by Vader.

‘It’s within the deadline, your Empire owes me seventy thousand credits.’

‘ _My_ Empire,’ Vader mused. ‘You will get your payment, Fett. I trust you will have no problem with it going through official channels.’

Boba inclined his head. He preferred less traceable credit exchanges, but the Empire had a decent record of keeping things quiet. It was more than he could say for most of the criminals he worked for. Those deals had a tendency to end badly, unless one of the big names were involved. 

Boba leaned back in his chair. ‘So what did you actually want to talk to me about?’ he asked.

Vader was silent and impossible to read behind his helmet. ‘I think you know why I brought you here.’

Boba rolled his eyes. ‘My scintillating company.’

Vader made a grating metallic sound through his modulator. It was probably amusement. Boba knew he got away with a lot more than any Imperial would. ‘Not quite.’

‘I know. You just like having me around because I’m not afraid of you.’

Vader tilted his head very slightly to one side. ‘You are afraid. I can sense it.’ It wasn’t quite threat suffusing his tone, but whatever it was, Boba didn’t like it. 

He stood and placed his palms on the table before leaning forward. ‘Life in this galaxy is brutal and I’m not expecting to live that long. Bounty hunters don’t. You’re one of several thousand things that could kill me, so you’re not special, and I’m not afraid of you.’ Boba’s heart was pounding pretty hard, but that wasn’t exactly from fear. Not quite. Boba had always had a thing for danger and Vader’s dark, imposing demeanour certainly elicited a strong response.

‘Perhaps,’ Vader conceded after a long pause. ‘You certainly don’t act afraid.’

Boba sneered and reached up to unclasp his helmet. He pulled it off and placed it on the table between them. Vader froze the way he usually did when Boba did that. Maybe it was the fact that Boba had the guts to take off even that much armour, when Vader had never so much as removed a glove during their encounters. ‘Enough playing. I know you like to pretend that you’re somehow removed from this, but it's a bit obvious after what happened on Dargulli. You want it too.’

Vader inclined his head and stood. The way he moved was always a little surprising. There was a fluid grace that was completely at odds with the weightiness of his gait. Boba remembered what it was like to fight alongside Vader on Dargulli. It was like flying in the wake of a battleship as it leapt into hyperspace. That wave of distortion through realspace could tear a smaller ship apart if the pilot wasn’t prepared, but the boost it provided was a huge rush if you were smart enough to know how to use it.

Vader moved around the table and got into Boba’s space. The light in the room glinted dully off his helmet. The sound of his rhythmic breath seemed to fill the space between them. Boba had no idea what Vader was like beneath his armour, whether he was even a human, whether he was even _organic_. He probably wasn’t a droid. The flashes of amusement or even anger were too alive for that. 

‘Maybe you should be afraid,’ Vader said, using his ridiculous height to look down at Boba.

Boba snorted and rolled his eyes, glad Vader could see it this time. ‘You’ve had opportunities to kill me and you’ve always held back. You’re smart enough to want me alive.’

‘True.’ He stepped forward again, but Boba held his ground until Vader actually pushed him back. They walked backward until they reached the wall behind them. Vader paused, his hand still against Boba’s chest-plate. It would be impossible to feel a heartbeat through the layers of armour and clothes, but Vader still paused and tilted his head again, like maybe he was listening for it.

Then Vader’s hand drifted lower until it rested on the front of Boba’s belt. Boba quickly unclasped it and tugged off a few pieces of armour before pushing down his pants. There wasn’t any preamble to these encounters with Vader. Most of Boba’s armour stayed on, and in Vader’s case he never took off a kriffing thing. 

Their first time on Dargulli had been an adrenaline-fuelled post-battle fuck. At least, Boba had propositioned Vader right there and then and received the strangest handjob of his life. He’d tried to reciprocate, both on Dargulli and during the handful of times they’d done this since then, but Vader had always dismissed it. Boba knew exactly what he was getting out of this, and while Vader’s motivations were much harder for him to parse, he’d never really turned down a proposition. 

Vader’s hand curled around Boba’s cock. The grip was just a little too tight and the implicit danger made Boba’s breath stutter in his chest. He was only half-hard, but it didn’t take more than a couple of strokes to fix that. The strange synthetic feel of Vader’s glove carried an edge of familiarity these days, but it wasn’t at all the same as flesh. 

Boba grabbed hard at Vader’s upper arm on the right side. Trial and error had had suggested that this was an effective move. Vader’s grip tightened minutely and his stance shifted, which was about as much positive feedback as Boba usually got from this. Then Vader put his other hand on Boba’s face, splaying his fingers over Boba’s forehead and cheek.

It made things feel almost too close with Vader’s overwhelming presence. He loomed, the dark shine of helmet drawing the eye and the sound of his rasping breath filling Boba’s ears. Boba moved his head fast enough to capture Vader’s thumb between his teeth. The armour barely yielded as Boba bit down, staring at where he was sure Vader’s eyes were beneath the helm, staring back. 

Vader’s strokes sped up. It was a little too dry, with only precome to slicken the feel of the gauntlet against Boba’s skin. It was still so good though, as if Vader knew exactly how to handle him. Boba couldn't hold back a choked moan. He stopped biting down so hard and started laving Vader’s thumb with his tongue. The taste was surprisingly metallic for such supple armour. He wanted to hear Vader moan. He wanted to break down that icy manner and detachment. It never happened though. Vader always rebuffed attempts at reciprocation.

Boba’s hips started bucking up into Vader’s grip as he approached the edge. He was loath to close his eyes as there was an inescapable edge of threat, even now. His instincts kept him alert even as Vader’s hand twisted around his cock one last time. Boba bit down hard as he came, his satisfied groan audible even past Vader’s thumb. There was a petty kind of gratification in getting his come all over Vader’s nice clean glove. In that way at least, Vader wasn’t untouched by this. 

Boba took a moment to catch his breath. Vader’s hand lingered against his face for a long moment before it withdrew. Boba opened one of his pouches and took out a piece of scrap cloth. He wiped himself off before offering it to Vader. He didn’t bother supressing a smirk as Vader meticulously cleaned his gauntlet.

‘Thanks, I think I needed that,’ said Boba.

Vader shifted his stance before inclining his head stiffly. ‘Good.’

‘I still can’t tell exactly what you’re getting out of this.’

‘Enough,’ Vader said enigmatically. He did that a lot.

‘If it’s a power thing, I can kind of understand it. I mean, I’m the one with my helmet off and my pants around my knees while you’re still,’ Boba waved a hand indicating all of Vader’s attire, ‘armoured. I could get the symbolism.’

Vader remained silent. Boba pulled up his pants and refastened his belt. Then he pushed off the wall and stepped closer to Vader, stopping just short of touching him. 

‘Look,’ Boba said. ‘You don’t want to take anything off and destroy the aura of mystery and intimidation, fine, but I would like to reciprocate sometime. Call it my sense of honour.’

‘Your sense of honour,’ Vader repeated. It was the same flat tone as always, but Boba didn’t think he was imagining the underlying cynical tone.

‘Yeah, my sense of honour.’ Boba reached out, slow enough to give Vader a chance to stop him. He placed his hand on Vader’s belt and slid it down until he could press his palm between Vader’s legs. ‘If this is some sort of power trip for you, I could get on my knees and put my mouth on you, even over the armour. It doesn’t get much more symbolic than that.’

Vader went still, even more so than usual. He was silent for long enough that Boba was just about to step back and drop the issue. It was frustrating because he was almost certain that Vader wanted it.

‘That would not be wise,’ Vader finally said. There was definite reluctance in his tone. 

Boba made a frustrated noise in his throat and stepped back. Maybe he’d been wrong, maybe it wasn’t about some sort of twisted show of power. Maybe it was about… denial or something. For all that Vader wasn’t a Jedi, that the Empire had _outlawed_ Jedi, there was only one type of person that Boba had ever seen wield a lightsaber so well. 

‘Okay,’ Boba said, changing tactics, ‘how about after the next mission I run for your Empire, I get on my knees for you and we call it _my_ bonus.’ He phrased it as a statement, but gave it just the hint of a questioning inflection.

Another long pause from Vader. ‘That… may be acceptable,’ he said.

Boba grinned and stuck out his hand. Vader gripped it and they shook. It might have been his imagination, but it felt like it lasted just a beat too long. Boba went over to the table and put his helmet back on. As he approached the door he paused. ‘Until next time, Lord Vader.’

‘And you, Fett.’

Boba nodded to himself and left. His mood was light enough that he didn’t even bother trying to ignore the stormtroopers as he made his way back to his ship. Life was nasty, brutal and short, but there some perks, especially for a bounty hunter.


End file.
